


Light

by drarryiscannon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Draco is so sassy, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Harry is an idiot, Harry's POV, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Slow Build, the boys being dumb together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7435582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryiscannon/pseuds/drarryiscannon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is not divided by people that are Death Eaters and those that are not. There is both light and darkness in everyone. Harry's trying to come to terms with that, still.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the beginning, there was light.

**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap guys.
> 
> This is my ultra mega secret project I've been working on:
> 
> A multichapter fic! 
> 
> Hooray! 
> 
> I'm literally so excited about this, I hope you love it as much as I do.

Light travels much faster than sound.

That's why when you opened your mouth, all I saw was your beautiful lips moving, that's why I didn't hear you telling me you didn't love me anymore until much later.

_______________________________

I guess it's kind of funny, now, if you think about it. I could have had anyone, _anybody_ , any witch or wizard I wanted, but the only wizard I loved decided that I just wasn't enough anymore. Maybe I never was to begin with, but...I'd rather not think like that.

Being the "Saviour" is not fun, okay? I didn't ask for this.

It's a whole bunch of people fawning over you where ever you go, always sharing their tragic back stories, picking and picking at wounds that will never get the chance to heal, _it is scarring _,__ always asking for, "One more picture, Mr. Potter."

I have received invitations to every stuffy, stupid formal event the Ministry could think of, and I somehow always ended up going, because I felt like if I didn't, I was somehow cheapening the deaths of those that died; Remus, Tonks, Colin, Fred. I felt like I owe them all something. I still do. They _died_ because of me.

I had to, I had to. It's the least I could do.

Ron likes the attention, though. He always had a bit of a desire for the spotlight, and I don't blame him. I don't. I know it wasn't easy trying to make something of himself when he has as many older, more successful brothers as he does.

Hermione just politely smiles and she'll even agree to the occasional autograph once in a while, she respects the fact that people are thankful to us, of course, but she downright despises the hero worship, and the pedestal the Wizarding World has put me upon.

Ha. Let's be honest, I hate it too.

I always thought it was ironic, the way Draco hated it as well.

_______________________________

After the Battle, I didn't hear from, think about, nor see Draco until the trials at the Ministry.

I guess you could say I was a little bit more than shocked when Kingsley Shacklebolt charged him with the crimes of being a Death Eater and attempted murder, as well as various war crimes, not to mention the use of Unforgivables, and housing Death Eaters and most importantly, Voldemort himself. Draco was a _child_ , he was fodder for the front lines, hell, _all of us_ then were only children. We were playing grown-ups the best way we knew how. It's not like we had any other choice at the time.

His mother, Narcissa, was sitting with the other people being tried and accused. Her small frame shook violently with sobs, loud wails echoing throughout the courtroom. I was taken aback by the sight of her, normally ornate hair in a curly, frizzy, unkempt ponytail, her usual expensive, showy robes were replaced with a long sleeve tee and sweatpants.

I don't think a Malfoy has _ever_ worn sweatpants before. Let alone in public.

"The Wizengamot suggests life in Azkaban, we feel are being extremely generous by not pushing for the Kiss-"

I stood up, enraged, my eyes surely blazing-

"Are you _serious_? My god, I didn't defeat a genocidal maniac just so we can be prejudiced towards others! Generous? Life in Azkaban? Are you bloody mental? He is just a kid! For gods sake, I'm still a kid! He didn't _kill_ anyone, he was being bloody forced to serve Voldemort-"

The courtroom erupted in gasps and outraged whispers.

"No! Listen, he and his family would have been killed if they refused to house him and all the other Death Eaters, it's not Malfoys fault his father is such a nasty piece of work, so tell me, are you seriously going to condemn him to life in Azkaban? If you commit him, commit me, too. At least I bloody _murdered_ someone." I spat out angrily.

Hermione was shocked, big brown eyes wide, and her bushy eyebrows shut up into her hair, while Ron turned red and started spluttering about Fred and how he needed "vengeance."

Hermione turned to Ron, and smacked him on the thigh.

"Stop it," she hissed.

Kingsley Shacklebolt regarded me silently.

"Since Harry Potter has personally advocated for Draco Malfoy, accused number E14, the Ministry declares a personal pardon from all charges, granted by the Minister, himself. Court is adjourned."

Draco's mother was sobbing even louder now.

_______________________________

"What the _fuck _is wrong with you."__

"Jesus, Ron, seriously? You're still pissed about Malfoy? Yes, he's a bloody _git_ , I know that, but he doesn't deserve to rot in fucking Azkaban! He had no choice, okay? So get off your fucking high horse about Fred's death, stop taking it out on everyone you lay your eyes on, because this is hard enough already. Think about your mother for fucks sake. Or maybe Hermione. Stop freezing her out and treating her like shit, because in case you haven't noticed she loves you." I grit out.

Ron turned as red as his hair.

"Talk to me when you've come to your senses."

With that, the door slammed so hard the portraits on the wall all fell off in the entryway in Grimmauld Place.

_______________________________

I received an owl from the Malfoy estate, maybe four days after the trial and the blow up with Ron.

The bird was pure white, beautiful, really, and she almost looked like Hedwig.

I smiled fondly at the thought of her.

I cautiously opened the letter, slightly shocked to see Draco Malfoy himself was inviting me to the Manor to see him on "personal business." I was almost even more shocked to see the "thank you's" littered throughout the parchment.

Tomorrow at noon seemed like a fucking lifetime away.

_______________________________

I Apparated to the Manor, scowling when I saw I had not arrived at the ornate, front door, but the foot of the long, winding driveway.

Awesome.

It was so stereotypically Malfoy I couldn't hold back my biting laughter.

I trudged on up the drive, impressed by the grand gardens and the white peacocks that were gliding about. I put out a hand to one, and it hissed at me and ruffled it's feathers.

Nasty little shits.

I shuddered and kept pacing forwards, finally nearing the intimidating door of the Manor. I had previously sent an owl I borrowed from Ginny to reply to Malfoys letter, so it's not like he'd be surprised by an unwanted guest.

Ha, wait. I'm Harry Potter, so maybe I am a _tad_ bit unwanted, I mean, this is ___Draco Malfoy___ we're talking about _ _ _.___

I stared rather stupidly at the door, and was about to knock, when the door flung open, and I was greeted by a crying, angry, Malfoy.

"W-well are you going to come in, or a-are you going to stand there like a f-fuckwit?" the blond managed to ask between angry sobs.

I blinked.

Malfoy gritted his teeth, balling his hands into fists.

"Come the _fuck_ i-inside, Potter, Merlin's sake, those Muggles sure as fuck did a b-bang up job teaching y-you your goddamn manners." he spat out.

"Okay." I said rather dazedly, and stepping inside, looking around the grand entryway, trying not to look too impressed.

I cleared my throat and tried not to stare at the still crying boy.

"So...er, you owled me."

Malfoy gave me a dirty glare, and Merlin, if looks could kill I'd be pushing up daisies alongside Voldemort.

"Oh, _well spotted _,__ you're so fucking intelligent, do you want a filthy gold star?" he shrieked, throwing his hands into the air, no longer stuttering his words, having controlled his crying now quite a bit.

Probably because I was pissing him off.

Yeah.

"Um, I should, I should go-" I started, as I crept closer to the door.

"No! Wait! I need to talk to you!" Malfoy said urgently, wiping his eyes rather pissed offedly, looking like each tear drop shed had personally offended him.

Shit, for all I know, they had.

"Um. Okay, er, what about, exactly?" I asked awkwardly,

He shook his head.

"About that little shitty spectacle you pulled during my trial, Potter. You and I both very well know I should be rotting away in Azkaban, I should be with my father. I should be with my m-mother."

He started crying silently again, shoulders positively trembling, looking so vulnerable.

"Wait. They actually _charged_ Narcissa? She didn't even have a Mark! If it wasn't for her, we'd have lost the war! Jesus, Malfoy, why the fuck didn't you say something sooner? I could have helped her!" I yelled, pissed off by now.

Narcissa Malfoy did not deserve to be in Azkaban. And I'm just going to be nice and choose not to voice my opinion on Lucius.

Malfoy trembled, shaking hard _ _ _ _._ _ _ _

"You t-think I don't know that, Potter?  
It should have been me. _It should have been me_." he said bitterly, tears streaming down his pale face.

I was quiet for a moment.

"I don't think I would say that."

He glared at me.

"Are you really that fucking noble, or are you just a bloody idiot? Of course I should, I have a Mark, I cast Crucio on people, innocent people, I helped Voldemort kill Dumbledore, I have _blood_ on my hands, you stupid piece of shit. So why didn't you let me go?" Malfoy was yelling by now, grey eyes shining wildly, and cheeks tinged pink.

I sighed.

"Snape killed Dumbledore, first of all. I was there. And Malfoy, look, Voldemort, he basically had you lot hostage. You didn't have a choice. Your father, he...he should have never put you and your mother through that. You aren't your father, Malfoy. I know that, I've seen it. Back during the War, you could have sold me out, when those Snatchers had us. And you didn't. You're a kid. You did what you had to do." I said sadly.

Malfoy looked at me, unshed tears welling in his eyes. I wanted to hold him, try to push all his brokenness together somehow.

Fuck, I'm going insane, right?

Instead I toed at the marble floor with my trainer, like an idiot.

"You still should have let me rot. I don't deserve this kindness. I know I've been, how do I say this, well, a bit of a prick to you, and your friends, even. I just don't understand." the blond said softly.

"Exactly. People haven't been kind to me. That's why I'm like this." I said honestly.

All I got in return was dazed silver eyes.

 


	2. Let's set the way we used to be on fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cheese nips guys it's another chapter! I'm so actually proud because there's a wild plot brewing! There's actual character development! (Yes it's minuscule but oh well) like gee whillikers I am just so eXCitE

Hermione came by to visit me the day after I met with Malfoy.

"Harry." she huffed.

I cocked my head to the side and smiled.

"Yes, Hermione?" I asked, still grinning.

She tried to bite back a grin, and crossed her arms, looking at me like a scolding mother might look at her misbehaving children.

"You need to talk to him, Harry." she said exasperatedly.

I frowned and ran a hand through my hair, ruffling the wild locks that after 17 years still refused to lay down straight.

"I just-I can't, right now, I've got a lot on my plate right now, you know. The Auror offer from Kingsley, the whole Ginny thing. You know. Trying to recover from this war. I've got Teddy to worry about-"

Hermione cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes.

"He feels horrible, you know. He's having a rough time, too. His brother died, Harry. Come on. Don't be so self-centered. I love you, but when you get all wrapped up in your head, you tend to forget about everyone else." she said softly, taking my hand in hers.

"It's just not fair, Hermione, I-I can't, I can't do this, not anymore. I'm not even eighteen and I've lost my parents, all my family, I've lost too many people that I love and _I can't do it anymore_." I whispered raggedly as I started to cry.

Hermione hugged me fiercely.

"Then talk to Ron. Make up. You still have us, don't forget that. Try to fix things with him, okay?"

I nodded into her brown, bushy hair, and told myself that, yes, I will fix this.

_I have to _.__

I don't have the luxury of having a choice.

____________________________ _

When I arrived at the Burrow, Molly smothered me with bear hugs, and treacle tart.

"Oh Harry, dear, I'm so glad you stopped by, we've missed you these last few days! Especially Ron and Ginny." she chirped.

Oh, right. _Ginny_.

That was a problem for another day.

See, back at Hogwarts, Ginny and I dated. But now after all the time apart, and the war, I've realized that we aren't supposed to end up together. Of course I love her, but I love her in a sisterly way, I want to protect her, watch her succeed and grow up into someone strong and beautiful and capable.

But I don't want to marry her.

That's okay right? To change your mind, want different things? I guess the real reason I haven't said anything is because I know Ginny _does_ love me in that way, she wants a big white wedding, three children and a picture perfect husband, and she's decided that I fit into that frame quite nicely.

I don't.

I'm not perfect. I'm far from it, I'm not extremely brave, or exceptionally talented. I'm just really fucking lucky, I had the right things happen at the right times, and I knew the right people. I didn't get to choose the way my life went, the whole of society got to do that for me. Pardon my bitterness.

"Oh, that's nice, but I really only stopped by to talk to Ron, Mrs. Weasley." I told her.

She smiled and nodded, "Of course dear, well, I won't keep you any longer then."

I smiled and hugged her, and made my way up to Ron's room.

______________________________________ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

I knocked on the door, rapping my knuckles quietly, because I still wasn't sure how I wanted to approach this.

"Mum?" Ron asked blearily through the door.

"Er...no, Ron it's Harry. Can I talk to you?" I asked while running a hand through my hair nervously.

The door was thrown open and I was greeted with a sheepish ginger.

"Look, Harry, I'm sorry I blew up on you that day, after the trial. I've realized I was being a total prick, after all, you're right." Ron said quietly.

I blinked.

"I'm right?" I said incredulously.

"Yeah, you know, you were just trying to look out for him, he didn't kill anyone. I know that. He probably didn't even know what he was getting into, I mean his father, Merlin, he's _terrible_. You're right when you said he didn't have a choice." he said somberly.

Ron laughed drily.

"I was just, I mean, I still am upset about, you know. I don't know if any of us will ever really be "okay", you know, after _that_. It was wrong of me to take it out on you. I know how rough all this is for you, mate." Ron continued.

I drew him in for a hug, feeling a bit silly for almost wanting to cry.

"I know, I know, I could have been less insensitive. I was a git, and I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?" I asked.

Ron laughed loudly and pulled away, shoulders shaking in a way I haven't seen since before the war.

"Of course, you prat. You're my best mate."

______________________________________ _ _ _ _ _

_Peck_.

_Peck._

Oh, for fucks sake, it's a bloody Saturday, it's seven in the morning, of course there's a fucking owl pecking my window to hell.

I scowled at the bird, white like virgin snow, and threw my blankets off of myself, trudging over to the window, throwing up the sash.

The owl hooted almost irritatedly, as if _I_ was the one who had disturbed their peaceful slumber.

The letter is from Malfoy, of course.

He says he wants to see me again, tomorrow, at two.

My chest flutters strangely, and I have to wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans.

I groan, and fall back into bed.

That, is a problem for tomorrow.


End file.
